


Fever Dreams

by sansathepretty1



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Fever Dreams, Gen, Theon is such a darn i love him for it, Tumblr Prompt, delirious theon is what i live for, i usually dont write theyne but idk i found a way to sneak kyra in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansathepretty1/pseuds/sansathepretty1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I found a prompt on Tumblr posted by myheartismadeofstars and wrote... this. It'll have more chapters, this is just the first one. Yay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by myheartismadeofstars on Tumblr. I don't usually write Theyne because I find Jeyne incorrigibly annoying but.... I found a way to sneak my baby Kyra in there.

He’d never done this before. It had just never happened.

Jeyne pulled the ruin that had been Theon Greyjoy closer into her lap. The fever had set in suddenly, out of nowhere. It was burning what was left of his body like he’d been set on fire. Since they had arrived at Pyke, Jeyne had suddenly begun to feel like she might have a home again, and the two of them had begun to finally settle.

That was when he came to her in the middle of the night, burning hot with blood pouring out of his nose, telling her how cold he was.

She’d managed to get the bleeding to stop, she was scared. She didn’t want to ask the Maester for help and Lady Asha scared the living shit out of her. Not many people wanted to get too close to Theon anyway, although he was clean and beginning to look somewhat healthier, he was still living in constant fear of Ramsay, disturbed and haunted by things that could barely touch him now. So Jeyne drenched some blankets in seawater and wrapped him in them, holding him until he finally fell into a violent fever dream.

She leaned her head against the cold stone wall. Theon struggled, thrashing weakly against something she couldn’t see. A drop of blood formed on his lip, it grew until it streamed from the corner of his mouth and ran down his neck to pool at his collarbone. His maimed hands gripped her shoulders and he exhaled forcefully.

"My lady…" he gasped, "Lady Arya…"

"No, Theon." Jeyne whispered, brushing his sweat-soaked hair out of his face, "That’s over. I’m Jeyne now, remember?"

"…Reek…" he breathed, "Weak, meek, freak…"

"Stop." Jeyne scolded, Theon drew another laboured breath as she gently sopped up the blood. He would die if she didn’t find someone, but Jeyne found her legs rooted in place as he burned and bled and fought in her arms. She needed someone to help but she was afraid to leave him, she’d left him too many times before.

"…cold…" he shuddered, shifting against Jeyne’s abdomen, "K-kyra, I’m freezing…"

"No." she repeated firmly. Theon stared at her with wide eyes and began to cough violently, blood sprayed obscenely over his lips. Before Jeyne knew what she was doing she had torn off part of her skirt and clamped it over his mouth. The dark blue became black within a matter of seconds. Theon’s hands rested tremulously on the backs of hers, eyes closing. She was scared, he’d never done this before… he’d never done this before… Jeyne pulled the fabric away and Theon seemed to relax, burying his face into her ribcage.

"Kyra…" he begged, "…help, Kyra…"

Jeyne ached to slap him back to reality. Kyra had been dead for two years, raped and flayed at the Dreadfort. He’d seen her die, she remembered he’d told her about it in graphic detail. Jeyne remembered the way the wench used to show up from time to time in Winterfell, her blonde hair and skewed green eyes. She probably didn’t look as irreverent and rawly sexual while she was being flayed as she did when Jeyne saw her leaving the castle, walking with an ache between her thighs and messy yellow curls. Jeyne had never liked wenches, probably because she knew that someday she could very well become one.

She kissed Theon’s burning forehead, still not saying a word. Maybe she could let it continue like this, if he thought she was Kyra maybe it would calm him down. The two of them must have looked pathetic, Jeyne kissed him one more time, this time lingering more than she had before. His wide grey eyes fluttered violently, finally falling shut as he exhausted himself.

"No…" he whined, feverishly shaking Jeyne’s arm, "Kyra, we need to split up." he sobbed. "…He can’t track us if-" he coughed again, not as much blood came up this time but it was still there, bright red against his pale skin.

"Sshhhh…" Jeyne laid him on the stone floor and pulled the soaked blankets away, cleaning away the blood with her sleeve,

"…Run… don’t worry about me…" Theon pleaded desperately, his mutilated hand cupped Jeyne’s face, "Run… run…"

"She’s safe." Jeyne lied, "She’s safe now, she ran away."

Theon smiled then, his teeth looked horrifying, stained red and broken. Jeyne was going to have to get used to looking at them, but they wouldn’t always be covered in blood.

"Safe…" he almost laughed, "she’s gone… and I saw her… I saw her die…."

"I know." Jeyne whispered, resting her forehead against his, Gods, he was burning up.

"I didn’t even try to help…" his voice cracked, "I have to obey… obey, it rhymes with flay…" blood ran from the corner of his mouth, "…I was a good bitch… Kyra was a bad bitch… she didn’t obey…"

Jeyne felt a lump in her throat, she wanted to smack him. “You couldn’t help. He would have killed you if you tried to save her. She’s not in pain anymore.”

"…she loved me…" Theon whispered, "…how did she ever love me?"

"I love you." Jeyne said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Everyone here loves you."

"Turncloak… that’s all I am." he coughed up another handful of blood, Jeyne turned his head and cupped her hand beside his mouth.

Warm blood dripped through her fingers, it felt like the time Lady had caught a little white bird and brought to Sansa because that was what wolves did when they loved you. She and Sansa had buried it in the yard. Jeyne remembered crying because of how the wolf had torn the bird up but left it’s face, and it’s warm blood had run down her arm and Sansa had scrubbed it off, telling her she was a baby for crying. And Jeyne had just sobbed that the baby bird was dead, and Sansa kept telling her the bird wasn’t in pain anymore.

"Kyra’s in a better place now. She’s somewhere else, with Lady Hornwood and all of his other girls, they’re all safe now."

"No… no… she was safe with me…” he sobbed. “I didn’t save her…”

Jeyne laid down next to Theon and draped her arm over him, “Yes you did.”

"No…" he shuddered, "Turncloak…"

Jeyne buried her face in his shoulder as he kept whispering more unintelligible words. She could hear his heart racing, she just wanted him to get better…

"Go to sleep." she whispered into his hair, "I’m right here, just go to sleep, you’re safe with me."

"…that’s what I told Kyra… Oh, Gods, Kyra…" blood ran from Theon’s nose down the side of his face, seeping into his hairline.

"You can’t get better unless you rest." Jeyne almost begged, "You’re not in danger here."

Theon turned to her, his pale face was flushed and his eyelids were a dark purple. “…I need to be a good bitch…”

Jeyne pushed his hair back and pulled his head into her shoulder, Gods, he was so hot… She stroked his hair, trying to be as gentle as possible when she was so scared. His hand drifted spastically along her back, blood dripped obscenely from his nose onto the floor. Jeyne could see red splotches on the stone in the space between her chest and Theon’s head. Everything had been getting so good, his hair had begun to grow back a subdued light brown, not the black it had been before but it was a start. They had slept together until they were both sleeping through the night and not reliving the horror they’d experienced together, what was making him revert now?

"It’ll be better tomorrow. You’ll feel better if you just go to sleep."

"…Jeyne… I don’t want to die…" he breathed, retching up another warm red gush. It soaked into the front of Jeyne’s dress but she ignored it.

"I won’t let you die. You’re just sick, your fever will probably break tomorrow."

"I deserve it…" he choked.

"Don’t say that." Jeyne snapped, internally kicking herself for raising her voice like that.

"…Reek is a bad little bitch… Reek, freak, bleak-" Jeyne pulled Theon closer,

"Stop." she said, biting back tears. "Stop this second, or I’ll go get your sister."

"…no, don’t leave… we can’t split up…" Theon sobbed, "…we can’t split up!" he struggled in her arms and Jeyne held him tighter until he was still.

"Alright, alright, I won’t leave you." Jeyne’s eyelids felt so heavy after last night, she hadn’t shut her eyes since Theon had woken her up. "Just go to sleep, I’m right here."

"Don’t leave…"

"I won’t move."

Theon exhaled heavily and nestled closer, Jeyne’s hands trailed along his spine as his breathing became slow and even and his pleas for Kyra and for Jeyne to not leave him died away.

Jeyne eventually snuck away to get him some water and dry blankets. Hiding out of sight of his sister’s prying eyes, she gathered enough food to last them through the night and sprinted back upstairs. He was still sleeping on the stone floor, whispering something unintelligible.

Jeyne knelt next to him, “Wake up.” she whispered, shaking him gently.

"…yes m’lord…" Theon choked out, digging his fingers into the fabric into her dress.

"Stop this, Theon." she almost scolded, lifting him into her lap and leaning him against her shoulder. "You know who I am." She held the cup against his lips,

"Cold…"

"No, you’re hot, you need to stay hydrated." Jeyne tilted the cup a little more, hopefully this would get the bleeding to stop. He shivered violently. "Better?" she whispered, pressing her lips into his hair and pulling the cup away. Theon’s arms encircled her waist unsteadily.

"Don’t leave again…"

"I’m sorry, but I’m back now." She wrapped Theon in one of the dry blankets and kissed his incredibly hot forehead, he buried his face in her shoulder. "Just go to sleep, we’ll see how you feel tomorrow."

"I can’t sleep, I need to be a good little bitch."

"Theon-" she began, then lowered her voice, "Just rest."

"That’s my name, isn’t it."

"Yes." Jeyne whispered. Theon seemed to relax.

"I need to remember it."

"You’ll remember it."

Jeyne leaned against the wall. His breathing was deep and he was radiating heat. His fever would probably break in the morning. Jeyne closed her eyes and fell asleep listening to his heartbeat and praying that whatever fever dream he was having would be better than reality.


End file.
